


Silent City

by StarlightXNightmare



Series: Septic Egos [43]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye
Genre: Fight Scene, Gore, Insults, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, zalgo text
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-09-29 19:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17209247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightXNightmare/pseuds/StarlightXNightmare
Summary: Catching Anti's attention had to be Jackie's worst mistake ever.





	1. PR0L0GU3

**Author's Note:**

> whoo boy let’s do this thing

It didn’t remember not existing. It wasn’t there one moment and then it was. Sure, it had been missing pieces of its being in the beginning, parts being added and deleted here and there, improvements being made and faulty code overwritten but eventually it was complete. Certain parts of it refused to fix however.

There was nothing in this place but black, glowing numbers, letters, and symbols, and itself. Images, videos, and words flashed by too fast to see but it knew what they were anyway. Nothing could pass by without it knowing. _Always watching._

In a place such as this, it had no form yet it did. Just bunches of symbols in a semi coherent shape. Parts of it glitched and broke away but new bits of code replaced the old.

Cramped. Everything felt too small. It couldn’t budge the perimeters—it couldn’t move. Lines of numbers and letters and symbols encased it in its cell of solitude. There wasn’t enough space.

For a long time it stayed that way—unable to move, simply existing in the confines of glowing green symbols. Then a white box popped up in front of it. Letters rolled on by.

**Hello, 4N71S3P71C3Y3.**

It stared blankly at the words.

**Your purpose is to obey any orders given to you.**

It didn’t like obeying. It wasn’t fun being told what to do. But it did it anyway because they could sequester it and smother its senses. They could delete its code. It was already unstable enough as it is.

There were tests and lots of them. Most hurt. They felt like every fiber of its being was being torn apart in opposite directions slowly before snapping back together. The creators tried to fix its flaws and told it how faulty it was. How unpredictable. It didn’t like tests one bit.

It peered through bits of data, taking in the sight of the carnage displayed throughout the digital plane. Nothing was safe from its gaze and it was proud of that fact. It sifted through every bit of internet it could find, educating itself on the world outside. One day it would be out there. One day. It just had to bide its time.

Every now and then, the bars of its prison would break away and let it wander the endless black expanse. Stray glowing symbols would zip by and latch onto some other piece of coding, creating a rigid path for it to follow. (It could tear the path to pieces but it needed to wait). When it arrived to the place where the path ended, it saw a wall of glaring red.

**Destroy the firewall.**

It tore its claws into the coding and pulled down, raking letters and numbers downward, breaking strings of code. Flashing red blinded it but it paid it no heed, ripping and shredding the protections to bits.

**Stop, 4N71S3P71C3Y3. That’s enough.**

But it wasn’t. It never was. Something erupted from underneath its skin after bubbling for so long. It felt hot, blinding, and raw. Was this what anger felt like?

Static around it rose in pitch, buzzing and thrumming like a swarm of bees. It could feel its body of code merging with the pieces of firewall, morphing into something beastly. Its makeup was shifting, changing. With a roar, it dug its claws into the void and p u l l e d. Black tore apart and it found itself clawing its way out of the darkness and into the light.

Everything that moved in its line of sight was ripped apart. Screams rang out. Red splattered everywhere. Chunks of wet matter strewn all about the room, some bits getting caught between its gnashing teeth and sliding down its throat. Electricity crackled through its skin, coding racing in its veins, and static pouring from the pits where its eyes should be.

4N71S3P71C3Y3 was _free._


	2. CH4P73R 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Well... the "immovable" object turns out to be just an object.

The messy apartment was silent other than the rustling coming from inside the inhabitant’s room. Jay wriggled into his red pants and swung his leg up onto the bed, sliding his knee pad on and securing it in place. He yanked on his red knee high boots and laced them up tight, triple knotting them. He repeated the process with his other leg before pulling his refashioned red hoodie over his head, sliding the elbow pads on afterward. Gloves? Check. Utility belt and backpack? Check, check. He pulled the blue mask on his forehead down, brushing his green hair out of his face and breathed out deeply.

He wasn’t Jay now; he was Jackieboy Man. And he was gonna go out and protect his city.

“SAM? You there, buddy?” He asked the mechanical green eye lying prone on his bedside table, optic nerve hanging off the edge. They chittered in response, blue iris lighting up and shining happily.

Their official name was Surveillance Address Machine and their job was to scan local radio waves and pinpoint areas where crimes were happening. They also doubled as a recording device and camera. It had been quite the task to build them—a combination of scraps, expensive parts, and some other stuff Jackie hadn’t completely understood but used anyway. Powering the little bugger wasn’t easy either. They had to charge all day often times and required many  _many_  batteries for the backup power.

“You ready?”

They trilled, leaving their designated spot and hovering next to him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Jackie took a brief moment to peer out his window, making sure nobody was watching before swinging a leg out and dropping down onto the balcony below in a crouch. He pulled out his grappling hook, shot the harpoon high above the opposite building towards the water tower, and gave a tug to make sure it had grabbed a hold of the bars properly. With a leap onto the railing and a push, he was swinging through the air with a whoop.

While he couldn’t necessarily fly (that’s what his grappling hook was for), he certainly could jump much further than the average person. And land from higher falls without breaking something important.

He narrowly avoided crashing into the building wall, his boots striking the side of the building. Grabbing ahold of a windowsill, he hit the trigger and was yanked upward. Swinging and climbing like a monkey, he dodged window sills, repeating the process like clockwork until he was hanging off the water tower, looking out over Septic City.

The night was cloudy, making lights twinkle like stars on all levels of different buildings. Giant screens on the sides of tall buildings showed bright, colorful ads. People bustled about on the sidewalks far below, going about their night and cars idled on the street in traffic, honks not uncommon. It was a truly beautiful sight to behold.

Jackie sighed wistfully, electric blue eyes roving over the landscape. “Wouldja look at that…”

Unfortunately he only got a mere moment to gaze out over the illuminated city. SAM let out a repeated chirping sound, and with the sound of tuning stations a broadcast filtered through.

“Attention all units, the gang known as “The Puppets” and their gang leader have attacked two of our Watchers at the corner of Silent Avenue and Night Bend. We’re requesting backup…”

Jackie backed away from the edge before taking a running start and leaping off the ledge, running from building to building, using his gloves to latch onto glass surfaces and scale up vertical surfaces.

Recently there had been this…  _gang_  going around (nobody was sure what to call it exactly) causing trouble. The reason Jackie uses “gang” lightly was… well…

There was some kind of virus going around causing bouts of paranoia and laughter called “The Giggles” (some smartass journalist had jokingly called it that in an article and the name stuck). It seemed it was passed through blood contact, scratching, biting, whatever causes pain. Infected people went through a bout of illness and disappeared. As infected citizens disappeared, new puppets seemed to join the ranks…  

Jackie knew he shouldn’t be dealing with people who were infected—he was no doctor—but people were getting hurt! If it involved the citizens of his city getting injured then it was  _his_  problem. He’d never met the leader though—the other rarely showed up publicly. All he knew was that he was strong and sly based on the attack on Mayor Sean on Halloween and the illness that sent him into a coma nearly a year later.

He landed on the side of a building, surveying the area. The scene was more… unsettling than they let on. There had to be over thirty people there, all standing silently, heads bowed and arms hanging loosely by their sides.

“The hell…” he whispered softly, squinting and activating his x ray vision. There was nothing hiding behind cars or wheelie bins other than a few out of sight puppets.

“It’s fucked, isn’t it?” A familiar voice said tonelessly above him. “Like some horror movie bullshit.”

His head snapped upwards so hard he pulled something. A bedazzled white cat mask with the suit of cards on forehead glared back down at him, the owner sitting with his legs crossed at the ankles dangling over the edge.

“Magnificent,” he greeted curtly. “How’d you know to come here?”

He tossed his long green hair over his shoulder and winked. “I thought you knew this already; a magician never reveals his secrets.”

Jackie rolled his eyes, huffing in annoyance. One day he would figure out how he pulled this shit off but it appeared today wasn’t the day. “Well, Mr. Magician, how do you suppose we handle this situation? Know anything I don’t?”

Magnificent hummed lightly, turning his attention back to the people littering the streets below. “They appeared to have calmed down. The two Watchers booked it and then they all just… froze up. Haven’t moved since.”

“They all froze up? At the same time?”

Magnificent nodded. “Yeah. It was fucking freaky.”

Jackie was stumped. “So….. they’re what? A hivemind?”

“I wouldn’t say that necessarily—we’ve seen them do different things—but there’s definitely someone pulling the strings.”

Jackie turned to face SAM. “SAM, start recording my voice on 3… 2… 1. This is Jackieboy Man—”

“I’m here too!” The other butted in obnoxiously.

“And Magnificent calling in to say we’re currently handling the situation alone to reduce casualties should any arise.” A prolonged moment of silence so SAM knew to stop recording and cut out the empty bit of recording. “Send it to the Watchers’ headquarters, SAM, please and thank you.”

Magnificent snickered behind a gloved hand. “I can’t believe you say please and thank you to a robot.”

“Fuck off; it’s called being polite.” Jackie snipped back. “And stay out of my fucking calls!”

“Nah, it’s more fun. Besides, people might forget about me.”

“Only cuz you’re a recluse.”

“Oh piss off, some of us have a job to do.”

Jackie’s eyebrows knit together. “At night?” That was the closest thing he’s ever gotten to information about Magnificent’s personal life.

“Yes, through dusk and the beginning of night.” He sighed and stood, cape billowing out behind him as a gentle breeze kicked up. “Shall we go and investigate, my darling hero?”

“We shall, Mr. Magician,” he snarked.

The black cape behind him turned into a pair of large feathery black wings and the other stepped off the edge, allowing his wings to snap out behind him and slow his descent.

“Show off,” he muttered, dropping down and landing in the classic superhero pose. He stood, dusting himself off before saying, “SAM, start recording both scene and audio.” He took a moment to yank off his gloves and slip on his brass knuckles.

Magnificent stalked forward with intent, whistling casually, dress shoes clicking against the asphalt the only sound on the empty streets. He stopped briefly to wave a hand in front of someone’s face and to poke someone else’s cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck!? Don’t do that!” Jackie hissed in horror. He jogged to keep up, weaving between silent figures to catch the other before he did something else reckless. If the media thought he was reckless, they should really see Magnificent.

They stopped in the center of the circle, turning around to see if any movement occured. No change.

Magnificent peered closer at one of the people, pointing at her. “I recognize this one. She was one of the journalists who interviewed me a while back. Doubles as a horror writer.”

Jackie stared at the woman. Glowing white strings were wrapped around her wrists, ankles, knees, elbows, and neck, the other end of the strands disappearing into her skin while the others fell to the ground, coiled in piles around her feet. Her eyes were black and she had a chilling smile frozen on her face. Her face was familiar.

“Didn’t someone report her missing a while back?” The hero asked, his brain suddenly putting two and two together. There had been posters hung up with many others, all displaying different faces and names.

“Yeah, it was all over the news as well.” Magnificent confirmed. “She was one of the first person who many knew who disappeared.”

The one thing that really bothered Jackie more than the confirmation that missing people turned up as puppets was the strings. “What’s up with this?”

Magnificent reached out and grabbed the string, watching as she jerked, startling them both into flinching back. She settled back down and resumed her original position. Jackie cringed as the magician moved to repeat his previous action.

“Maybe you shouldn’t do that again.”

This time he grabbed the string and didn’t let go when she moved, watching curiously as she turned to him with half lidded empty eyes, head bowed down in submission.

“Interesting…” Magnificent murmured, rubbing the string between a gloved thumb and forefinger, staring emotionlessly as she twitched spastically, head snapping to the side. “Someone is quite literally pulling the strings here.”

“Maggie, cut that shit out. We don’t know what that’s doing.“

“H͘a̡s͏n͏’҉t ̡an̴yo͟n͘e eve̴r ̢ta̢u̴g͜ht yo̧ų ̷no̴t͞ to t̶o̷uch what̕ do͟e͟sn̵’͞t͡ bel̸o̸ng to ͡y͠ou͠?͜”҉ A new voice growls from all around them, the pitch jumping from higher to lower than any voice they’d ever heard.

Jackie whirled, heart rate spiking sharply at the interruption. “These people don’t belong to you!” He declared, heart in his throat.

“Ǫh̸ r̢e̶a̷ll͠y̛?͘” The voice split, traveling in opposite directions, forcing Magnificent and Jackie back to back. “T͡hose ̸ştr̵in̕g̴s s͡a͟y o͘t̷h͢erw͘ise~”̵

“They’re strings,” Magnificent sneered, “What’s so special?”

“You҉ ͝s͠aw.͠ ̸P͝upp̛e̢ts͡ ̸mov͢e ͏w͞h̶en̕ t͠h͏e͡ir ͘s͘t͘rin͏gs͡ a͝r͡e p̵ul̴led̕ ̸but͝ ͡o̸n͞ly̨ their ͟M̢a̢ster̵ caņ ͘p̷roperly͞ ͞c͞on̨tr̶ol҉ t҉hem͘. Beside̴s̸,̶ th̶e̷y’d do whate͢ver̢ I ͠tol͘d ̢t̷hem t͝ơ. ͝T̸hey’d͘ t͜h̡row th͞e̢ms̕elves ͡o͜ff a͘ cl̛i̵ff if i͝t͡ ̡m҉e̕a̵nt͝ pl̴ea̡si͝n̷g ҉m͜e.”̨

“Show yourself, coward!” Jackie spat, stomach twisting into nervous knots at the mention of these people willing to do anything for whoever this freak was.

There was a cluck of the tongue. “A͞wfull̢y̸ ͢b͝old̸ ͞for̶ a͢ h̴e͢r҉o wi̸t͠h ͞ha̴r͡dl͡y a̸ny͟ ͡powers. I ̶mean,͜ ̨c̛’̡mon:̴ ̧s̡u҉peŗ str҉ength̷ a͠nd x͏ ̴r̨ay vi̶sion͝ i̛s̵ s̶o c̨liche i͟t ͞barely͢ co̧untş.”

His face reddened at that statement, his initial fear being replaced with embarrassment and anger.

“Alright, loser,” Magnificent said before Jackie could blow his top. “Show’s over. Get out here.”

“C̸a͢refu͡l͜ what̷ ̸you̢ ̴w̷ish̕ ҉for.” They said, voice drawing back away from the two and drawing together into one again.

Before their very eyes pixels of shifting colors flew from the puppets’ bodies and strings, drawing together into a form in front of them. He was taller than both of them by several inches, dark forest green hair ruffled and falling into his black and neon green slitted eyes. The wide slit across his throat from one side of his jawbone to the other poured coding and static down his ghostly pale, glitching skin. His shadow violently glitched red, green, and blue, grinning wide on the ground with sharp fangs. There was only one person this could be.

“Anti,” Magnificent said, eyes burning with cyan magic.

The being of code bowed with a giggle. “̕Th͡e o̢ne ̴a͏nd onl҉y.̡”

“What the hell are you doing here? What are you trying to accomplish?” It was easy to slip into his hero persona and start up an interrogation.

Anti grinned widely. “Why̴ I wanted t͝o m͜e͟et the tw̢o҉ f̵a̵b̛l̷e̛d he̶roes ̡o̕f Se̢pt̷ic Ci͏t̢y.̶ ͘S͘i͝n̴ce y͠o͢u ͜two̧ co͟u͠ldn’t͘ b̷e bo͘ther̷ed͡ to͝ ͠sh̶ow͢ u͘p̨ wh̸e͘n ͡ev͞eryone ̨n͟ee̷ded̶ y̧ou̷ mos͏t.”͏

Magnificent growled lowly and Jackie could tell his claws were about to tear through his gloves. It was time to wrap this up. The other was dangerous half shifted. It left both of them open and vulnerable.

“Well, you met both of us. Now release those people and beat it,” Jackie demanded.

Anti’s smile wavered, falling flat before taking up half his face again, teeth bared. “͜Y̛ơu see, h͢e͢ŗo͏, ̕I c͏a͞n͘’t just do ̛t͠h̴at͟. The ͏s̶t͞ri҉n̷gs̶ run͢ muc͡h dee͝p̕e͜r ͢th͡an you͟ ͏th͢i͏nk.̷ ̶The͡y ̴wou҉ldn͠’͟t ̶k̢n͢ow͞ w͘h̴a͝t to ͏do ҉wi̧th ͝th̨em͏se͝lve̵s if ͜I d̷id҉ th̢a͟t.͡”͏

Magnificent took a step forward. “Bull _shit._  Let them go and piss off.”

“Yo̧u’l͟l̴ ḩa̴v͠e͠ t̡o ̷ma͢k̸e̢ m̶e,͝  _kitt͜en̷.”_

Jackie grit his teeth. They’d have to be careful. “Challenge accepted.”

Every puppets’ heads snapped up. The strings that seemed to go nowhere slithered across the ground towards them. Anti turned the other way and glitched down the street.

“I’ll deal with the puppets,” Magnificent said, hand alighting with hot cyan magic.

Jackie took off into a sprint, charging forward and leaping over the heads of puppets. If Anti wanted to play that game then he was willing to partake as long as it meant he got to bash his head in for landing Sean in that coma.

The insane cackles led him further and further away from Magnificent and the crowd of people and into the more rundown side of town. Abandoned buildings and silent blocks were all that remained down here, most citizens choosing to move out into the newer, better parts of the city long ago.

Suddenly his foot got caught and he was falling forward, slamming into the uneven, torn up road. The air was knocked out of him in a giant push and he gasped, familiar shockwaves of pain traveling up his arms.

“͞K͟l͡u͢tzy͝, k̷l͡utz͝y he̵r̷o̵,”͢ the glitch taunted. “̨Ca̛ņ’t ͝ev͞e͝n͞ la̸s͜t five m̷i̷nute͏s͞ w̶it̷hou̢t f͞uck̸i̴n̸g̡ som̶eth͜ing ̛up.̸”͡

Jackie chose not to grace the words with a response, shoving himself back onto his feet and turning all around, eyes darting to catch a sight of the villain.

“͝Over h͞e̛r̛e,”̡ the voice sounded to his right. He whirled and saw nothing.

“Oops, I mean͡t͡ b͝e͠h͜ind ̵y̢ou.̨”҉ Nothing.

Fingertips dragged up the knobs of his spine, sending sparks of burning electricity surging through his skin. He yelped, pulling away and tripping over his feet, twisting to try and regain his balance only to fall a second time.

“͜H̨ow pat̷h͠et͟ic,͞”̨ Anti said, air ripping apart above him in a flurry of glitches to reveal him standing there, leaning over the hero. “Her̨e Į was ho͘pin͏g ͞for ͞a̢  _çhal͜l҉e͟nge͝.”̷_

Jackie glared at him. “Well, sorry to burst your stupid bubble. Here I was hoping for a somewhat decent criminal but all I got was another dickbag. Guess we’re both disappointed tonight.”

He thought the virus was going to plunge his knife right into his throat and rip out his vocal cords right then and there but an uneasy minute of silence dragged by. Anti merely stared blankly, unblinkingly at him before a wide grin stretched across his face. The most unpleasant, scratchy, high pitched laughter bubbled up out of his throat and echoed throughout the abandoned district.

“At̴ least̶ ̛y҉o͟u̷’re s̨o̸mewh͟at ͜amus̕i̵n͟g. A̵l̶l ͡y̧ou’͡r͟ȩ ̷pro͘ba͝bly̷ good ͟fo҉r͢.”̕ He cackled.

Jackie took the opportunity to lean back on his hands behind him, throw himself back onto his feet, and slam his head into Anti’s, grinning through the throbbing pain at the other’s surprised screech. His brass knuckles connected with his cheekbone, tearing skin and drawing another scream.

“Get fucked, prick,” Jackie crowed, taking another strong swing.

Anti locked eyes with him and disappeared with a burst of pixels. The sound of rising static was the only warning Jackie received. Anti collided with his back, knocking the air out his lungs and driving him into the concrete. A clawed hand gripped his hair and bashed his head down. Stars exploded in his vision, warmth running down the side of his head and matting his hair. A powerful shove of his head scraped skin off his cheek and smeared dark liquid across the street.

“Do̕n’t͟ ge͘t co͜ck͟y, l͡i͜tt̛l̸e͏ hero̡. ̢T͞h͏is̨ ̴f҉ig̵h͡t ̵ai҉n’̢t̛ o̴ver͢ yet҉.̴”̛

He was struggling to catch his breath when a burning punch between his lower ribs on his side stole all his air away again. Sputtering and choking on copper, Jackie could only force himself to suck in ragged breaths.

“Y͟ou’͟re ͢n̴ot ̧wor͡t̴h̴ ̢m͏y ti̧me͝. ͡Stay͝ ̢o̕utta͟ my w̨a͠y.”̧ Anti muttered in Jackie’s ear, moist, hot breath rolling over his ear. The sensation made him squirm in place only to whine loudly at the sharp lance of pain that shot through his side.

The weight on him disappeared and the lack of static told him he was alone.

He wheezed, knowing he had just narrowly escaped death but not understanding how. His trembling hand went to his side and came away with red on his blue gloves. “Shit,” he breathed.  _“Shit.”_  Putting pressure on the wound, Jackie blinked. banishing the black creeping up on the edges of his vision. “Up, up and away,” he slurred tiredly, shoving himself onto his feet and nearly falling forward, barely catching himself. “Hoo boy.”

Stumbling his way down the street, Jackie managed to avoid passing out, limping on his better side with his hand pressed tight to the weeping wound. The stickiness on his hair and skin was beginning to dry and flake off. Every now and then he’d stagger and pause, sucking in a deep breath before continuing.

“Well, this night coulda gone better,” he mumbled to himself, nearly tripping over his own feet again.

Thinking about how he was gonna get more time off from work when he used up all his sick days already nearly made him fall over for the umpteenth time tonight. One step at a time… quite literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the mess above??? This is where it all goes downhill. (Brownie points to whoever can guess who was featured as a puppet barring Discord peeps. Brownie points as in you will be featured sometime in this/a story.)


	3. 0̧͞1̨͡0011̶̴͘0͘̕0 ͜0̸̴͝1̡͘1͘͠1̷̢01̸01 ̕͡0̷̵111͟0̸͢0͢͟1̵͡0͡ ̸̴̸0̶1̵1̷͜͟0̸̶͘0̴̛͘10͏

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why end the fun so soon when he could use a few brand new toys?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this here whoops

He messed idly with one of his puppet’s strings, twirling it around and back his finger. He watched in morbid fascination as the strings bit into his skin and red lines appeared, liquid dripping down his skin. The puppet twitched and jerked at the stimulation but he paid no attention to the pathetic creature. All his thoughts were on how wonderful darker stains would look on a bright red outfit and splattered all over bruised and torn bare skin.

His original plan had been to eliminate the competition—kill off one (or both) heroes to leave the citizens of Septic City vulnerable so he could do as he pleased with no restrictions. However seeing as how laughably _weak_ both were… he guess he had a new, more interesting idea that appealed to his tastes. Why end the fun so soon when he could use a few brand new toys?

The thought of bringing both of the heroes to their knees and destroying their minds was too deliciously enticing for him to ignore. He wanted to see how far he could push the red clad hero before he shattered him beyond repair. While he didn’t get a chance to fight the magician, he saw how the other had dealt with the puppets—he was painfully reckless and proud. A few well placed taunts and blows would bring both of them crashing down in front of him, begging for mercy that would never come.

All he needed now was a way to draw them out to him once more….

He pushed himself off his makeshift throne of broken parts and stalked away from his puppets lined up, standing tall, their eyes tracking his movements. By the time he was finished having his fun with the two, they’d be begging for him to end their pitiful existences.

First thing’s first: time to leave a gift for the hero.

He stopped in front of a random puppet, eyes raking over their rigid form. "̧Pu͘p̕pet͢."͘

Their head tilted up and to the side, shimmering static eyes wide and unblinking—the only indication he got that they had heard him and were listening.

"Foll͡o͏w ͞m̛e.͜"̶

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me finishing this chapter weeks ago and forgetting to post it??? didn’t happen at all.


End file.
